


Quesh

by Ulalume



Series: Major Grys [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen, Grys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulalume/pseuds/Ulalume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Female Commando Grys and her crew get some down time on Quesh and decide to head to the cantina.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quesh

**Author's Note:**

> I had already pretty much finished this when I saw the prompt for [7: Holiday/Vacation/Downtime](http://swtorwrite.tumblr.com/post/30017287516/prompt-7-holiday-vacation-downtime), but it fits.

It wasn’t going to be on her list of favorite places, although there was something to be said for the swamp planet’s colors. The deadliest things often contain their own special beauty.

She didn’t think tonight would figure high on her list of favorite memories, either. Tomorrow they would head to Hoth. Forex had already gone back to the ship to start some of the preparations they’d need for their next mission and with nothing planned tonight, Grys thought she should force a little socialization on them all, herself included.

She would have preferred to take advantage of the relative quiet of the officer’s quarters at the barracks but she told herself she could relax later, once she’d made the crew get to know each other better. There was some tension between Jorgan and Vik, and she wasn’t going to let that rift get wider if she could stop it now. They didn’t have to like each other, but they did have to work as a team. She had already gone over this with Jorgan but so far, nothing had changed. She shook her head. Jorgan could sometimes be too rigid and Vik, well, he would take some special handling.  
  
She was mostly looking forward to spending time with Elara. The two of them had begun to form a close friendship, and as long as she could get Elara to stop thinking about work, the night might even turn out to be fairly pleasant.  
  
Sighing, she ran a brush through her hair and dabbed scented oil on her wrists and neck. She then made a quick check of her outfit. Elara had lent her a deep red blouse with a gorgeous metallic pattern woven into the fabric, and Grys smoothed her hands down her sides, appreciating the feel. She had to admit that Elara’s taste in clothes was exceptional, and the red flattered her skin color. The neckline was low, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, and the cut was perfect with her trousers. She straightened her necklace, gave herself the thumbs up and a cheesy grin in the mirror, and feeling a little silly, exited her room.  
  
They had arranged to meet up at the entrance to the barracks but on her way down the stairs, Grys ran into Elara, who looked stunning. Her blonde hair, surprisingly long, hung down her back in loose curls and she wore a shimmery blue complicated-looking wrap top and slim black trousers. They had just started down the hall when a young private rounded the corner and came to an abrupt halt, eyes and mouth wide with surprise to see the two women in his path. They laughed as he scurried away.  
  
They were still giggling over the thought of the two of them scaring the young man, when they entered the vestibule. Only Jorgan was waiting for them, however, and he informed them that Vik had already gone ahead. _Typical_ , Grys thought, her mood a bit dampened.  
  
“Lieutenant, you look nice tonight,” Elara complemented Jorgan, and Grys turned to appraise him as well. He was wearing that shirt she liked with a light jacket on top. The green matched his eyes and the brightness offset his dark fur. She nodded, “Elara’s right, you clean up well,” her grin lazily spread across her face, growing wider as she watched him shift his feet and look awkward now that his two female squad members were focused on him. “Ah…you two as well. I mean, you both look nice tonight.” He looked so uncomfortable, Grys took pity on him. She stepped forward and opened the door with a flourish, waving the two of them outside, but as she followed behind, she gave Jorgan another once-over. He did look good tonight. Those pants fit very…nicely.  
  
Yes, this evening might turn out to be a pretty entertaining after all.  
  
They entered the cantina and Jorgan guided them towards a set of sofas surrounding a table. As they sat, she scanned for Vik and spotted him chatting up some traders. She grimaced. _I’ll have to watch that one. Too many schemes going._  
  
The cantina was surprisingly well-stocked — no doubt due to the Hutt presence on Quesh — and she pored over the drink menu, looking for something exotic. She seldom drank, but when she did, she liked to sample the rarer choices. Jorgan and Elara ordered and received their drinks while she took her time. Jorgan rolled his eyes at her indecision and she punched him in the arm before he could say anything.  
  
“It’s _not_ indecision. It’s education,” she huffed at him, and went back to the menu. The choices were so intriguing. Mandalorian tihaar? She glanced over at the Cathar. Perhaps nothing Mandalorian. Did a bloodsour contain actual blood? And what creature’s blood? Grys didn’t want to know. She finally decided on Arkanian mead.  
  
“…didn’t stand a chance.” She looked up from the menu and tuned into the conversation between Jorgan and Elara. She could tell from the look on Elara’s face that Jorgan was telling her about his sister’s recent proposal to her boyfriend.  
  
Grys had burst out laughing when he had told her, just after he received the news, and remarked “She sounds like a force to be reckoned with!” Jorgan had grinned back, “You don’t know the half of it. Let’s just say she’s very determined.”  
  
“I’d say it runs in the family,” she nodded sagely. He had pointed at himself and stated, “ _I’m_ considered laid back compared to the rest of my family,” which caused her to chortle again, imagining his family dynamics. “You’ll see someday,” he gave her a small smile. “I just hope they don’t embarrass me. They’ll do it just because they can.”  
  
She had held out her hand, palm up, to him. “Let’s just get that over with, Jorgan. Hand over that holo frequency, I’ll call them and learn all your secrets.” She had meant to play it serious but couldn’t keep a straight face because his reaction had been comical. She enjoyed it when he let down his guard.  
  
Elara was having a similar reaction to the news, her eyes bright with mirth. Grys looked up and saw several of the bar patrons looking appreciatively at Elara, but when they saw her, they looked away quickly. She felt a twinge of sadness and dropped her eyes down, frowning.  
  
“Is something wrong?” Jorgan asked, looking over his shoulder to see what had bothered her.  
  
“Nothing I’m not used to,” she mumbled, then stood. “I’m going to order a drink. Anyone need a new one?”  
  
At their negative replies, she walked over to the bar and edged in sideways to get the bartender’s attention. As she was ordering, she felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned and found herself facing a human, tall and handsome, with warm, brown eyes, stylish black hair, and an equally stylish black trench coat. She smiled at him. “Can I help you?”  
  
“Hi.” He returned her smile. “I haven’t seen you around here.” He motioned to the bartender, “Let me pay for your drink.” She couldn’t place his accent, but he didn’t strike her as a soldier.

  
“I’m here with friends,” Grys politely declined, nodding her head in the direction of her crew.  
  
The man frowned, then smiled again. “I see. Will you be on Quesh long?”  
  
She shook her head. “Heading out tomorrow.”  
  
“Business was good, I hope?” The question seemed innocent enough, but Grys didn’t like small talk much, not on her own time. Hell, not even on Republic time.  
  
“I can’t discuss the details.” She shrugged apologetically.  
  
“Ah.” He took a sip of his drink and didn’t continue, so she assumed the conversation was over.  
  
“Well, it was nice meeting you.” She picked up her drink and turned to leave, only to be unpleasantly surprised when the man reached out to detain her, gripping her arm with one hand.  “I’ll bet your skin feels different…everywhere.” He leered at her and reached down into her blouse.  
  
She twisted out of his grip but grabbed him by his neck, her fingers digging hard into the soft flesh under his jaw, and pulled him towards her. “You touch me again, you lose those hands” she growled, then pushed him violently away, threw her drink in his face, and stalked back to her crew.  
  
Elara and Jorgan were on their feet, but only Jorgan looked murderous. She placed a hand on his chest to halt him. “I took care of it. He was just one of those alien-seeker creeps.” She shuddered slightly.  
  
Elara sat back down, but Jorgan continued to glare at the dark-haired man, so she pushed at him again, her fingers spread out for emphasis. He was coiled tight, not ready to stand down. “Jorgan, _it’s ok_. It’s done,” she waited for him to acknowledge her. He finally relaxed and turned his head to focus on her, and only then did she become aware of how close they were. He continued to stare at her, not moving, leaning against her hand. The fabric of his shirt was thin and she could feel the heat of his body, his heart beat fast against her palm. Suddenly lightheaded, she breathed deeply, nostrils flaring, then exhaled and took a wobbly step back. She dropped down to sit next to Elara, who reached over and squeezed her hand. “Whew. I guess the adrenaline rush is over,” she laughed weakly, and placed the empty glass she was still holding on the table.  
  
Jorgan straightened his shoulders. “I’ll get you a drink to replace the one wasted on that lowlife.” He made his way over to the bar.  
  
Grys kept her eye on him, not sure he wouldn’t haul off and punch the freak. She supposed he considered her like one of his sisters and felt mixed emotions about that. She could take care of herself and didn’t need an overprotective brother. On the other hand, it was nice to have someone ready to back her up, someone who treated her like family.  
  
Jorgan seemed to be calm as he chatted with the bartender, though, and creepy-man had disappeared. It didn’t look like she had to worry. Still, she didn’t take her eyes off him. From where she sat, the view was very nice. _Stars alive, he really looks good in that color_ , she thought. _And he really has nice thighs. I wonder if they are as warm as his chest and —_  
  
Elara cleared her throat. “Captain, you’re _staring_ ,” she observed.  
  
“I’m just making sure he’s not going to do something stupid,” Grys mumbled, glad that the cantina lighting was too dim to show her blush.  
  
Elara nodded, but didn’t comment further.  
  
Grys still felt a little giddy, actually, and put her head on her knees, closing her eyes. _What is wrong with me? Perhaps I should forgo socializing with the crew_ , she thought. _It’s not good for me. Far too much excitement._  
  
When Jorgan returned, he had drinks for all of them, two for her. Grys raised her head and took both drinks. She thanked him and knocked one back immediately, wiping her hand across her mouth and feeling the warmth spread through her chest. She loved the honeyed taste of mead but right now, she needed alcohol, not flavor.  
  
“That was entertaining,” a deep voice rasped from behind their seats. Vik leaned against a pole, smiling. “I would place bets on you, Captain. You’re a spitfire.”  
  
Jorgan nodded. “She’s tough.”  
  
Grys raised her glass and gave them a small smile. She downed the second drink — this one was whiskey, she noted — as quickly as the first. “I thought I showed _excellent_ restraint. I _wanted_ to cold-cock him,” she grumbled, placing the empty glass on the table with emphasis. Her crew laughed.  
  
After another round of drinks, they called it a night. The walk back was partially spent discussing details about their Hoth preparations, but Grys didn’t participate much, content to let the crew work things out. Her head was beginning to ache, and she looked forward to washing the scent of the cantina off her body. She slowed, hiding a yawn behind her hand. _Yes, definitely too much excitement_.  
  
Jorgan dropped back to match her pace. He didn’t speak, just walked in silence next to her until they reached the barracks, and left her at the door to her quarters. He swore she mumbled something about thighs as he walked away but shrugged it off as something he must have misheard, because what he _thought_ he heard would have been absurd.

  
23.08.12  



End file.
